The Arkansaw traveler., 1887-05-28
REcoLLEcTIoNs OF A POET.

[Correspondence of the New York Graphic.
 After many years of neglect the French are beginning to raise Lamar tine upon the pedestal from which he was overthrown shortly after his death Perhaps no more sincere tribute [ has been paid the memory of the dead poet than that by the dramatist, NJ. Le9ove. in his :" Recollections of Sixty Years"
 "Modesty in superior people," says that writer, is only the power of comparison. Now, when Lamartine compared himself with his contempo- raries he appeared great, but when he drew parallel between himself and men of the greatest genius he was modest. One day l ventured to say to him: Explain this to me. like your poetry quite as well as that of La Fontaine and learn it with equal facility, but in six months have for gotten your verses, while l still re- member his.
 "'I will tell you the reason,' was his answer. La Fontaine wrote with pen--nay, with burin. 1 write with an artist crayon. He engraves :; l color. His outlines are clear and precise, while mine are vague and un- decided. As a consequence his re- main; mine are etlaced.'
 "Struck by such impartiality, con tinued.
 "Still. there is not single French poet so richly gifted as yourself You have as much genius as the greatest [" Possibly he answered. smiling, but have but little talent, and talent, my dear fellow, is acquired by hard work and the exercise of the will. l have never worked, and can't revise. When have tried to improve some of my verses, Pve made them worse. Compare me with Victor Hugo as versitier. I'm d mere school boy along side of him.
 Beranger had become very much excited over the pcrusal of Lamar tines Jocelyn.'
 "'Ah! my triend,' he said to the author, it is a chef FGUcre of poetry, emotion and inspirations Then, with knowing wink that was habitual with him, What pity that you let your concierge do 800 or 100 verses for you.'
 At this Lamartine burst out laugh ing, evidently very much amused. Never had an author less of the genus tr7ftdbiie rotum.'
 "One day in one of the rare mo- ments in which he uttered his real sentiments in which he allowed one to see the very bottom of his soul. he cried:
 "'Oh. to be q Napoleon without the sword!
 "That was his ambition-to rule over Il great people by his thoughts to command the world by his intel lect-to be the conquerer, the master of his epoch without shedding drop of blood or compelling his fellow men to submit to any other yoke than that of justice, pity and generosity. Do you call this a chimera-a dream {? Perhaps so but the dream was real ized for three months, and he labored at it's realization during sixteen years.
 "Look at his course after 1882. When he entered the Chamber for the first time some one asked
 "'What party will you join?'
 '''The Socialists.'
 ''This was new word then, and meant, as used by the poet, the party that was to look after the interests oi the people as distinguished from those of their rulers.
 "'The Socialists replied his col league; what does that signify !? It's only phrase
 "' 'No,' replied Lamartine, it's al idea
 "' But where will you sit? Ther, is no bench for those with whom you affiliate
 "'Well, them returned the poet with smile, I'll sit on the ceiling, referring to his constant effort to gt beyond others to heights where only wings would sustain him.
 " A poor young poet, a friend O mine, named Armand Lebailly, wa, dying of consumption in the hospita of St. Louis. 1 induced Lamartine tt visit him, knowing that would dt him more good than all the prescrip tions of the faculty. We arrived ant went upstairs to the Salle Saint, Catherine. On entering could SC, the poor fellow bending over stov, at the other end of the hall, his fac, hidden by his long, disheveled locks At the sound of our footsteps he raised his head and gave us wild, savag, glance; but no sooner had he recog. nized my companion than astonish. ment, joy, pride were by turns visibl, on his countenance.